


An Affair of the Heart

by BeTrueBeYou96



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A prequel to Dragon Age: The Masked Empire, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Mild Hurt/Comfort, mention of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-08 06:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12248670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeTrueBeYou96/pseuds/BeTrueBeYou96
Summary: Briala's gaze lingers on the Lioness as she dances with her champion. She is filled with jealously and other feelings of regret. How can she conquer her fears without letting Celene know?





	1. An Envious Assessment

Numerous nobles of Orlais swayed to the enchanting tune of the soft music that played eloquently throughout the ballroom. The ballroom was exquisitely designed to allow the music to carry through the expansive room. The glass doors were closed, and draped with soft velvet curtains. The torches along the walls were dimmed this evening.

Dresses swished as women were led in a manner that showed their delicate nature in a marvelous way. Lords drank from clear crystal glasses, their intentions hidden beneath their half-masked faces.

Briala sighed to herself as she surveyed the room, wishing she were dancing among them. The mere thought of stepping forward, dressed in a gown befitting a noble lady, caused her to smirk. Oh, how the lords would be surprised! Her brown eyes gleamed with pure mirth, which only slightly peeked through the edges of her servant’s half-mask.

Although the thought of dancing in front of all these pompous fools amused her, she knew that she only wished she were dancing with a certain someone. She desperately wished that they had a moment to speak for just a moment. If not for their mortal years, she would whisk her mistress away from these crowded rooms. She would steal her away from all the heartbreak and vengeance that seeped through the stone floors of the castle.

Briala breathed out another sigh. Wistful thinking was for those that never acted on their dreams. Briala would not be one of _those_ people, never knowing what it was like to escape. She glanced away from one group of nobles to another, seeking out a familiar face in the sea of half-masked faces.

“Ah,” she whispered softly. “There you are.”

The Lioness had her back to Briala, but this did not bother her in the slightest. She could simply admire other attributes of the fair lady, such as the way the candlelight of the room caused her silky pale, blonde hair to shimmer brilliantly. She wore a heavy purple gown with gold stitched into its edges. In the curve of her back, a lion’s head resided, with a luminously golden mane.

Iridescent eyes suddenly replaced the lion’s ones, causing Briala’s brown ones to dart away. No doubt her freckled features were flushed red now that she had been caught off guard. She glanced back, aware that she might look foolish to her lover.

 _Yes, as if the empress of Orlais would ever think you a fool_ , Briala thought to herself.

She allowed her gaze to linger on Celene’s pale face, noticing the minor wrinkles peeking out from the edges of her half-masked face. She could recall that Celene’s face was once so soft and tight, not a scar or wrinkle in sight. Briala noticed that her empress, the Lioness, danced with Ser Michel de Chevin. He held the empress close, but not too close to arouse the intent of a romantic relationship.

Ser Michel was a chevalier of Orlais, as well as the empress’ champion. He was duty-bound to protect his empress and to ensure that her well-being was closely looked after. He was a warrior skilled to know all forms of combat, including ones that dealt with the forbidden dead.

Ser Michel’s armor gleamed underneath the candlelight, the insignia on his chest plate brightening as he spun the empress briefly away from himself. The skirts of Celene’s dress swished as he did this motion, before quickly returning to normal as he brought her back into his embrace.

A tiny pang of jealously slithered its way into Briala, as she balled her gloved hands into fists at her sides. When it came to openly being at the empress’ side, Ser Michel got to have all the fun. He was able to be beside her, without anyone judging how he held Celene so close. So close that Briala had to visibly restrain herself from attacking him with one of her concealed blades.

The insignia was that of a golden lion in a field of purple lilacs, and its piercing eyes had mocked Briala. It was a foolish thought, Briala knew, but she could not stand the man. Especially when he was with her lover! 

Some women around the pair openly gawked at him, their eyes sensuously raking over his muscled body. His blue-grey eyes and combed blonde hair made Briala want to retch. Why did it have to be him that got to dance with the empress? Why could it not have been with one of Celene’s other nobles?

“Because he’s actually able to protect her,” she mumbled dejectedly to herself. Her hands relaxed as her body was filled with sadness.

Briala could remember when Celene was not the empress, but a young noble lady of sixteen. They were closer then, without worrying about others spreading rumors of their affairs. It had been a simpler time of tender moments shared between the two. She could still recall the time when Celene had taught her to dance…

_They were in the apartments granted to her family by the Valmonts. Briala’s father held her in one of their small rooms, showing her patiently each step. Briala kept stumbling over her feet, the shame clearly showing in her freckled face. She couldn’t quite get each move, because she kept forgetting certain techniques. He would show her one thing, but she would then panic trying to remember how to follow it up._

_After tripping and stepping harshly on her father’s feet, she rushed from the room with tears in her eyes. She ran out of their apartments and hurried towards the gardens surrounding the Valmont’s house. She was so preoccupied with escaping, that she ended up tripping and falling harshly to the ground. Her face bruised from the impact, her modest tights stained from the dirt._

_Tears fell down her cheeks and she wailed out loud. A gloved hand gently reached for her, startling Briala. She was no longer alone. She cautiously peered up, and her jaw dropped open._

_“Celene! I-I, I’m so sorry for…” for what? Briala’s muddled brain couldn’t think straight to come up with a brilliant answer._

_“Shhh,” Celene said gently, “You have done nothing wrong yet.” Her cheeks dimpled as she smiled at Briala. Briala’s pulse quickened as she took in Celene’s pleasant gaze._

_“Whatever are you crying for,” Celene asked softly, reaching her hand out to help Briala up. No other lord or lady would dare help a servant up. Nor would they be as kind as Celene was currently showing. Briala shakily took her hand…_

Briala smiled fondly to herself, recalling that that moment then led to Celene carefully teaching her how to dance. Briala would continue to stumble, a blush lighting up her heated features when Celene would hold her close. She would look up to see a grin on Celene’s face, as a laugh left her sweet, pale lips. 

A musicians’ string was off pitch with the rest of the players, causing Briala to search for Celene in the crowd. She was still with Ser Michel at her side, but they were no longer dancing. Celene appeared to be speaking with one of her nobles, but Briala could not make out which one.

The notes of the song were beginning to reach their peak. It sent chills down Briala’s skin as it began to crescendo. Its tune reminded her of too many missed opportunities, too many kisses interrupted, too many nights spent alone. Those nights had been the hardest for Briala, who knew her parents weren’t here to show her the way to happiness. Now all she could see when she thought of them, was their blood soaking into the carpet of their home.

A moment like that one would forever haunt her, no matter how much she longed to forget the pain. 

Before she knew it, the ballroom was beginning to empty as the nobles took their leave. Briala waited patiently, watching them as they left the room. In two hours, she would be at Celene’s side once more.

At least that could provide her with some comfort for now.


	2. Masked Intent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The slip of a silver comb can lead to a moment of extreme pleasure, bliss and uncertainty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MATURE/EXPLICIT CONTENT! PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

“You look exquisite,” Briala whispers to Celene as she clutches a silver comb in her hands.

As Briala delicately brushes through Celene’s blonde hair, she can slowly feel the stress from tonight’s affairs ebbing away from the pair. Knots are gradually being brushed out with each stroke of the comb’s movement.

“Mmm,” Celene sighs, “your hands are enchanting.” The muscles in her shoulders relax as Briala continues to brush her empress’ long hair. Briala smiled from the compliment- one that Celene would often utter to her when they were alone.

They were situated in Celene’s bedchamber, with Celene seated in front of her vanity table. An ornate gold hand mirror lay on its back, allowing Briala to observe Celene’s features more closely. Her royal half-mask resided beside the mirror, it’s embellishments glistening in the candlelit room. Celene’s wan expression spoke volumes of today’s current trials for the empress of Orlais. Her iridescent eyes were concealed behind her eyelids. Her short, narrow chin rested slightly against her slender neck.

From her position, Briala could also see her own reflection in the mirror. She took in her long chin, her freckled cheeks, and her curly cinnamon-brown hair. Her skin was significantly darker than Celene’s pale face. Yet, she knew that Celene loved these things about Briala. She had known this for a long time, and still she felt plain in comparison to her lover.

“Ow,” Celene said, startlingly Briala out of her thoughts. Her eyes flickered to Celene’s, assessing the damage her reflections had caused in reality.

“I... I am so sorry, my Lady. P-please forgive my foolishness,” Briala removed the comb and bowed before her empress. She felt a hand on her cheek a moment later.  

“Whatever are you to be sorry for,” Celene inquired. Briala reservedly raised her face upward. She noticed that one of Celene’s blonde eyebrows was raised as she leaned closer to Briala.  

“I-I do not truly know, but I wish I had been more attentive.”

“No need to fret, my Bri.” Celene brushed her cool fingers across Briala’s flushed skin. Her thumb gently caressed Briala’s lower lip, which caused her breathing to quicken. She closed her eyes in euphoria, inhaling the delicate scent of Celene’s hand. She recalled the mixture of lavender and rosemary hand cream that her lover applied each day and night.

“Now,” Celene whispered to Briala, “let us forget our troubles.”

 . . .

 

The Lioness no longer wore the heavy purple gown from the ball, but wore a silk chemise instead. Her exposed waxen skin shivered beneath the scrutiny of Briala’s intense gaze. Gooseflesh sprouted as a chill entered the room; the fireplace in the room only lessening the cold. Briala’s brown eyes darkened as she glanced at her lover’s perky breasts. Celene’s nipples were raised from the current.

“ _You_ ,” Briala spoke, “are enchanting.” She then began leaning downward, pressing her lips onto Celene’s sensitive skin. Briala tasted salt as she licked and nipped at the supple skin of her lover’s neck and ears. 

She pressed her body closer to Celene, and lowered her right hand between the pair. Her fingers caressed and teased the flesh between her lover’s thighs. She felt Celene’s body shake with anticipation and need. Moisture flowed onto her fingers, as the heat of the moment forced Briala to slip a finger between the folds of her lover. Celene’s muscles pulsated around Briala’s finger as it moved in and out. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Briala’s, and Briala added another finger to increase the pleasure they both felt.    

She kissed her empress eagerly, barely registering the small moans escaping Celene’s minute lips. She pressed herself further onto her lover, allowing her own breasts to touch Celene’s. 

“Ohhh,” Celene moaned onto Briala’s parted lips. She shifted her body, and placed a hand between them. “Let me- let me…” 

“What is it you desire,” Briala friskily questioned, her breathing fast-paced.

“Let me be the air you breathe,” she whimpered as she tried to sit up. “Let me be your everything.”

Briala moved backward, her lust clouding her judgement. Celene had never spoken such sweet words before; nor had she ever said that she loved Briala. This was possibly the closest she would ever get to hearing that phrase from her lover.

“O-okay,” she whispered, placing herself next to Celene. Her empress smiled tentatively, before quickly placing herself on top of Briala. She closed her eyes as she allowed Celene to straddle her, to scorch her skin with her kisses. Celene’s long fingers danced across her servant’s half-mask. She lingered at the edges of it, before finally ripping it off Briala’s flushed face. The cool air caused Briala to shiver from the assault.

Her empress lowered herself as she pushed Briala’s slender legs apart. Celene licked the curve of Briala’s hips. She could feel her core tighten with need, as her lover tormented her skin with several bursts of passion and rapture. Celene swallowed, stuck out her tongue and flicked it across Briala’s exposed skin. 

“Yes,” Briala moaned, pressing her unsteady hand on her lips.

Her lover applied her fingers alongside her clever tongue, causing Briala to throw her head to the side. Her eyes flickered in the moonlight, as Celene’s tongue and hand caressed the freckles between her trembling thighs.

“Yes! Oh, Celene!”

Her breathing quickened as Celene’s tongue pleasured her in the most provocative of ways. She was tempted to scream at the top of her lunges, but chose to moan into a pillow instead.

Her body trembled and cooled as she went through the different intervals of her climax.

“Your turn,” Briala said breathlessly as she kissed Celene’s grinning lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I am still getting used to writing sexual scenes between characters, so please feel free to let me know where I can improve.


	3. Afflictions of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Briala's relationship to Celene worth fighting for?

A small draft was emitted from the dying stone fireplace, which caused a small chill to run down Briala’s bare skin. She blinked back the fogginess of sleep and rubbed at her slitted eyes. She was left wondering what had awoken her from her constant nightmares. This dream had been like any other, with Briala fighting against the Dark Spawn.

She had fought hard, her armor stained red from the many who she had slain. Celene was in the center of the chaos, but Briala could not locate the Lioness. She was missing, and yet she was somewhere in this frenzied battle. She shuddered at the thought of what could happen to Celene, if Briala was not there by her side. Would her lover perish in battle someday? Or would they be free to live a life of their own, away from the constant restrain of society and Dark Spawn? 

She peered over at her lover, who lay just a few breathes away. Her bare back looked welcoming, so Briala scooted closer so she could embrace Celene from behind. She pressed their unclothed bodies firmly together, and let one of her hands gently brush against Celene’s arm. She slipped her hand sensually down her lover’s arm, until she could finally intertwine her fingers with Celene’s long ones. She closed her eyes, breathing in the fragrant scent their love-making had created. 

She had always wondered if their love would be their ultimate undoing. She was an elf and Celene was a queen. They may have been together for several years now, but Briala feared that Celene would chose her kingdom over her. 

She re-opened her eyes, peering over at Celene’s calm and somber features as she slept. Would _she_ really abandon Briala? Or would her lover decide that she wanted her knife-eared servant more? Would their love ever be enough, or was it meant to be shattered and ripped apart like a gaping wound?

Briala knew her empress carnally. Should their secret affair ever become pubic, would Celene get rid of her? After all, she was queen and a bard. She could kill a blameless person without anyone ever knowing it was her. So why could she not get away with getting rid of a lowly knife-eared elf? Would anyone miss Briala? Would anyone even know she was missing? Would anyone even care? 

Briala unconsciously tightened her hold on Celene, which caused her lover to slightly stir. Briala froze, hoping Celene would not wake up and see the state Briala was in. How could she explain herself to her empress? She feared she would not be able to lie to the one person who had hurt her the most. The same person that she could almost hate, and yet, her love for Celene was far too great for that.

She could feign that she had a nightmare, or that she had needed to use the chamber pot. Any excuse would do, so long as she never had to reveal her sorrow and fear to her empress. Celene would not fall for such a trick anyway. She was far too clever to believe Briala so weak.

No matter how many ways she tried, Celene’s hold over Briala was far too powerful to break. Did she even wish to break away from Celene’s control? Briala had never considered the idea, knowing she would forever be under Celene’s grasp. She was bewitched by her lover, always aching with anticipation. Just like Celene, Briala was also fond of the game they played. 

The game of sweet seduction, fabrications and betrayal held a great place in both of their darkened hearts. She felt jaded, knowing that only time could truly reveal the continuation of their relationship. Briala only hoped it would not end in utter heart-break and regret. 

Would she be enough for Celene? Would the great Lioness choose a life of bitter nights alone, or would she decide to live with her faithful servant? Would they even be able to cope without the other there to aid them?

Briala knew that Celene was fully capable of ruling her kingdom singlehandedly. She had killed to become the true heir of the throne of Orlais. She would continue to do so if it benefited the continuation of her rule. Did that then mean that Briala would be lost without her lover, or would she be able to endure her cause all alone?

She did not know the answer. 

Usually Briala would be anxious to not know the answer, but now was not the time to linger on such dull thoughts. She needed to stay focused on helping Celene out. No matter what happened between the pair, Briala would always be there for Celene. She had no choice, but to listen to her lover’s every command.

She was utterly bewitched, and forever Celene’s faithful servant. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This was my second fanfic for this pair. Please feel free to comment your thoughts, and let me know if there were any mistakes. A lot of the time my writing gets confusing, so its encouraging to know where I can improve.


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